


one world or another.

by hiveblood



Series: that one au where everything's the same but they all have phones [2]
Category: Fire Emblem Heroes, Fire Emblem Series
Genre: Alternate Universe, Everything's the same but they all have cell phones, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:40:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22514137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hiveblood/pseuds/hiveblood
Summary: thrasir: so have you decided yetan irritated huff left the general, and his clawed fingers hovered over well-worn keys for a moment before he typed out his reply.Líf: No.
Relationships: Líf (Fire Emblem) & Thrasir (Fire Emblem)
Series: that one au where everything's the same but they all have phones [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1619941
Comments: 3
Kudos: 25





	one world or another.

it was right before dawn in askr, and the sky was dull and grey, but to be able to see the sky at all was a blessing. líf’s red eyes dwelled on the horizon, and the hollow shell of his chest was filled with something akin to yearning. how funny it was, to feel so homesick when you’d just returned home. 

his phone beeped and buzzed from inside the pouch that hung next to his sheath on his belt. there was only one person it could be, only one reason he kept the phone at all. flipping it open revealed an unread message from thrasir. 

thrasir: so have you decided yet

an irritated huff left the general, and his clawed fingers hovered over well-worn keys for a moment before he typed out his reply.

Líf: No.

no sooner than he sent the message did he see that thrasir already began typing her response. 

thrasir: you know you have to, and soon  
thrasir: right?   
thrasir: like there is definitely a point of no return for this world and if you don’t make a decision soon  
thrasir: well. what you decide really won’t matter anyway.

each message managed to get more and more under líf’s skin- well, what remained of it anyway. her typing speed was far faster than his own, and her rapid fire messages made it harder for him to compose his own reply. 

Líf: I’m well aware that I need to make my decision soon, but this isn’t an easy call to make.  
thrasir: no shit  
thrasir: it’s deciding which world to save and which to damn  
thrasir: but again, you need to make a decision soon  
Líf: It would be easier if you just had an opinion on this.   
thrasir: i’ve told you, it doesn’t matter to me   
thrasir: you give breidablik to the summoner and they kill hel, and i end up alone.  
thrasir: we destroy this world and our own is brought back, and i still end up alone.

líf pulled off his mask, and took in a deep breath. the rush of cold air into the hollow of his chest made him shiver; how strange it was to feel air brushing against his ribs like that, even after all this time. he took in a few more breaths, for the clarity and calm it brought him rather than out of a need to do so. 

Líf: You would have me. No matter what happens, I would not stop being your friend.

it always come back to this, for both of them. their world is dead and gone, and hel deemed only the two of them powerful enough or important enough to enlist in her army; all they have is each other. 

* * *

thrasir: heard you got your ass kicked today   
Líf: It’s lovely to hear from you too.

the general of the dead was currently having his legged healed by one the clerics amongst his rank. while he couldn’t die anymore, on account of already being dead, having his bones broken was unpleasant at best, and enough to put him out of commission at worst. 

his spine, now exposed for all the world to see, was his weakest point, but having sir frederick of ylisse take an armor-smashing hammer to your leg was going to mess anyone up. 

Líf: They’re all stronger than I remember. Alfonse in particular is stronger, somehow, than I was at that age.  
thrasir: and he’s stronger than you at this age too   
thrasir: lmao  
Líf: I’m serious, Thrasir. If they keep managing to push us back like this then we’ll never get our world back.   
thrasir: so your mind’s made up then?   
Líf: Yes. We’ll follow Hel’s orders.

she was uncharacteristically slow to reply- it was later, when he sat out alone beneath the stars, under the guise of keeping watch, that he heard back from her.

thrasir: can i ask what made you choose that?  
Líf: Yes, you can ask that.  
thrasir: ass.  
thrasir: but seriously, what...made you make your mind up?  
Líf: Truthfully, it's partially out of spite.  
thrasir: spite? that’s...unlike you   
Líf: Maybe.   
Líf: I see this world and its people, and I feel so bitter about it all. Why couldn’t I have been that strong? Why couldn’t our Order push back Hel? Why did it have to end the way it did for us?  
thrasir: líf…  
thrasir: when are you going to realize   
thrasir: there is no reason why  
thrasir: what happened to our world was cruel and senseless and the fact that we couldn’t stop hel was only because of catastrophically bad luck 

he had to put the phone down after that. 

líf knew and understood, on some level, that what had happened that damned their world had been entirely random. that his dear friend...that the summoner had been the very first victim the heart’s rite claimed, rendering the weapon it bore useless, was simply...bad luck, as thrasir said. 

but at the same time, the spite he felt towards this world’s alfonse, for still having everything he’d lost, was immense. after centuries of despair and apathy, his anger burned in his chest, brighter than anything could remember feeling since he died. to feel anything as strongly as he felt this rage...it felt like a blessing. it felt like proof that at least some small part of him was still _alive_. 

* * *

thrasir: just tell me this   
thrasir: can you really do it again? can you really watch sharena die again, and not do a thing to help her? could you kill her, if it came down to it?

líf nearly snapped his phone in half. 

he remembered sharena’s death vividly- it’d been raining hard that day, and hel had delivered a devasting surprise attack against what remained of their forces. líf remembers kneeling in the mud, reaching out for sharena, remembers begging hel not to kill her. 

it was over so quick- just a flash of her scythe, and then sharena was face down in the mud, dead. there had been no blood, something that had seemed cruel at the time. if not for the lack of breathing, one might even think she was simply sleeping. 

he carried her body back on his shoulders, his tears mixing with the rain. sharena’s had been the last proper grave dug - people were dying too quickly to keep up, and líf had become so hellbent on revenge anyways... 

he didn’t answer thrasir until after the battle that day- the order had been repelled for now, but the battle for the gate of hel was far from over. 

Líf: I hate you  
thrasir: i’ll take that as a no then

he ripped off his mask, his teeth grinding as a growl settled at the back of his throat. he paced across an uneven stone pathway, his soldiers knowing to keep their distance.líf typed fast as he walked, the sound of his claws on the keys echoing in the cavern. 

could he kill sharena? he couldn’t be sure. he knew that eventually it would all lead up to that, but...well. he’d become very good at not thinking about it. some part of him had hoped, selfishly, that thrasir would be the one to kill sharena, far away from him, so he wouldn’t have to face the reality of what they were doing. 

but her picking at that particular open wound- which sharply reminded him of his own weakness, and how much he relied on others even still- only made him angry. made him _mean_ . so he threw thrasir’s question back in her face. 

Líf: Could you kill Bruno? Could you deal with losing him all over again?   
thrasir: its not the same and you know it   
thrasir: if it came down to it yes i could kill bruno   
thrasir: but again we are not the same líf and you know it  
thrasir: so stop dodging the question

* * *

thrasir: they’re on their way  
thrasir: they know you have the weapon, and they’re heading back to the castle.   
Líf: Are you alright?  
thrasir: more or less.   
thrasir: the wounds aren’t too serious, but i’m not sure how much help i’ll be.   
Líf: Alright. Just...stay safe for now.   
thrasir: what will you do though?  
Líf: If they defeat me, then I will give them Breidablik.   
Líf: I hope that’s alright with you.  
thrasir: yeah.   
thrasir: yeah, that’s fine. it’s probably for the best  
thrasir: good luck, líf. one way or another  
Líf: Thank you.

his phone was placed back into his pouch as he sat on the steps in the great hall of the castle. pulling out the other object in the pouch, líf simply stared at breidablik for a while, turning it over in his hands, tracing the now familiar markings and worn edges. the last hope for his world, and for the other zenith’s. 

one way or another. one world or the other. 

**Author's Note:**

> accidentally fell in love with lif while writing this, folks. i think he's much more compelling when he's actually conflicted about what to do. anyways feel free to follow my twitter, @valorskills


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